A Worker's Poem (poem) by Robin Ouzman Hislop on AuthorsDen

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Recent poems by Robin Ouzman Hislop
• A Witch for Halloween
• Tales of the Senderos
• The Way of All Shadows
• Laminations in Laquer
• Paganini Ink Scroll
• The Fall of Orc
• Suibhne Unbound
• Suibhne’s Exile.
• Quarantine.
• Whales
• I just got back from Bilbao
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>> View all 164

A Worker's Poem
by Robin Ouzman Hislop
Saturday, April 08, 2006
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I must go the places,
I’m not permitted to speak.
Daily my work takes
me there, week by week.

I hear high orders spoken,
words everywhere on record,
then I’m released but broken
to voices remaining unheard.

As rain that patters on the roof,
we will listen to only the wind.
Anonymous & lowly aloof,
worn out from relentless grind.

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Reviewed by john salmon	6/16/2008

The worker is the backbone of the body. I enjoyed the read.